


The Realisation of Stiles

by Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, And she doesn't even know it, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Stiles, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Is So Done, stiles is a whore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language/pseuds/Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Realisation of Stiles, otherwise known as 'Stiles the Whore'</p>
<p>In which Stiles realises something about herself and wonders how in hell and God's name with all her infinite genius she could've missed it. </p>
<p>'But when she thinks about it… She has actually… with all of them… "Oh god," Stiles groans. "I'm a whore…"'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Realisation of Stiles

Stiles swears she's not a whore.

Swears on her soul-hands down, that she is not a whore.

But when she thinks about it…

She has actually… with  _all_  of them…

Does that make her a whore?

Does it?

Bitter logic says it does.

"Oh god," Stiles groans as her face pales and she drops her head into her hands.

"I'm a whore."

* * *

Scott's the first one.

Because he's Scotty McCall and of course he is.

They're sitting in Scott's room when it happens.

Just the two of them - 14 years old - having bro talks despite the fact that Stiles is a girl.

But whatever…

She doesn't know how it happens but eventually they get on to kissing and such ghastly things and Scott's complaining that he hasn't kissed anyone when Jackson Whittemore has kissed loads of people and it isn't fair.

So like she is so fond of doing, Stiles opens her mouth without thinking.

If she recalls correctly, her exact words were: Then why don't you kiss me.

Scott is silent.

As the grave.

Stiles was quick to defend herself with her usual babble, something which looking back she is both smiling at and despairing at.

It goes something along the lines of: I mean you could kiss me if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind. And I'm not just offering myself up, I'm not a whore or anything (Oh bitter sweet fucking irony…). I just know you Scotty, and you want your first kiss to be special and I'll be so upset for you if it isn't and I just thought it could be a good idea. Because I've never been kissed and I would want my first kiss to be special. And you're you and you're my best friend and my Scotty and I would do anything for you so I just thought that maybe it wou-

And that's as far as she gets because then she finds her mouth covered with Scott's own.

It was as you'd expect; tentative and unexperienced.

But it's sweet and kind and memorable and amazing.

But most of all, it's  _perfect_.

Scott pulls back first and they're both left wide-eyed after they finish kissing for she don't even know how long.

"Stiles," Scott says, eyes warm and a smile on his face.

"Scotty," she whispers back to him with a matching smile and leans her head forward; touching their foreheads together and staying there as their eyes slip shut.

Those two words are enough.

* * *

Derek is amazingly second in line.

God only knows how that happened…

'That' happens a little while after werewolves appear out of fucking nowhere and Scott becomes a character out of the Grimm Brothers' Fairytales.

She was at the Hale house, being a dutiful and brilliant best friend for Scott as she asked Derek questions about werewolf-dom.

And when she says 'asked', she means babbled.

She's babbling questions at him a mile a minute and then all of a sudden she isn't because something's covering her mouth and holy-Mary-mother-of-Jesus it's Derek Hale's mouth.

Derek's mouth is kissing her own.

Derek's mouth which is attached to his - she's not going to lie - very attractive and appealing face.

Which is attached to his mouth-watering body.

On which lies is fugitive ass.

But her mind is quick and she's a genius (which is hilarious because she missed this happening to her and seriously, how the hell could she have missed this happening to her?!) and by the time she's processed that - in about a second - she's right on to kissing him back to the best of her abilities.

Which are quite high if she does say so herself. Because she was a genius and she did own the internet and logic and her brain and she's never met anyone who's given anything less than a glowing review of her skill.

And if Derek's groan is anything to go by, he agrees with that view.

She can't remember exactly how long they kissed, but by the end of it she was most definitely against a wall and they are both panting.

The whole dating thing is actually a surprise.

Derek doesn't grab her after their hot kiss against the wall and carry her into the woods to push her against a tree and have his way with her. 

He kisses her on the cheek and then walks out, leaving her against the wall with her brain going in circles as it tried to figure out what just happened.

And then three days later, he turns up in her bedroom as she comes home from school and tells her they're going out to dinner.

It sort of just happens like that from there.

For about four months, Derek shows up out of the blue and takes her on an escape.

They kiss, they eat, they see movies and they go driving.

It's…odd.

But there's a lot of bad with the good - not a surprise considering everything that's happened to Derek in his life. 

She calls him Sourwolf for a reason.

She doesn't know how it happens but suddenly they're yelling and she just can't take the emotionlessness of the whole thing.

She's screaming at him to show an ounce of emotion or _anything,_ because it's hard to start falling for a piece of stone that you know will never be able to love you back.

She's crying when he turns away and leaves.

She runs for the jeep and drives to Scott's.

He has a bucket of ice-cream waiting for her.

The next week, Derek shoves her against a wall by her throat and asks for help and some research.

It's bittersweet normality.

* * *

Jackson is third, which is really the strangest and most twisted thing ever.

It happens after the werewolves come out of the proverbial supernatural closet and also after the brutal mess made by the Kanima and Gerard Argent.

And it happens when they're at school.

Stiles is having a girl day.

Rare, but a thing that she's prepared for.

She's wearing one of those singlet-short-onepiece things that's flowery and short. Shows off her back and dips low enough to remind the school that she really  _does_  have boobs and a cleavage. She's got her hair out and it's doing the thing where it's stylishly messy and could be compared to sex hair. She's wearing no make up except some red lipstick and on her feet are a pair of black leather ankle boots which she knows for a _fact_ make her legs look good.

So as she walks through the school, people stare.

Especially dudes.

Because while girls glare and criticise when Stiles does this, guys notice and are shocked in to a state of awe and attraction when they see how well she can actually dress when she wants to.

At least that applies to most guys.

Jackson Whittemore is an exception to that rule.

He acts like the dick he is usually.

Pushes her around when she goes into the guy's locker room to talk to Scott (Coach had long since tried to stop her coming in. She talked circles around him when he tried to get her out and normally the guys in there aren't too bothered by her presence. Today, it's most amusing to watch them squirm…) and Jackson shoves past her like normal with one of his usual genius taunts.

She smirks at him as usual and throws a comeback his way as he leaves without looking over his shoulder.

If it's possible, he's paradoxically gained both more confidence and more insecurities since he's become a werewolf.

But she has no thought for that.

Her daily quota of Jerk-son Wank-emore has been filled for the day.

Or so she thought.

It's lunch when she sees him next.

And when she says 'sees him', she means she's sitting on her own in an empty classroom to try and avoid Greenberg who's been following her around all day.

Surprisingly, Jackson enters the classroom as she sits on the edge of a desk with her feet in the chair paired with it.

"Imaginary friends abandoned you again?" he asks and Stiles sighs in despair and tips her head forward as she groans.

"Are you capable of pissing off Whittemore?" she asks him and, looking back now, she sees that it's a stupid question. Of course he isn't.

He replies with another taunt and she responds in turn.

All the while, Jackson had been getting closer to her and when he's two feet away from her he says something about her outfit and how she must have a reason for changing her lesbian clothing.

Stiles jumps up, done with his shit, and takes a step towards him as she shouts something about being allowed to dress however she damn wants and she doesn't need fucking pretentious assholes to-

And with a sense of deja vu, that's as far as she gets because Jackson curses out a low  _god fucking dammit_  and all of a sudden his hands are on her cheek and her neck and he's yanking her towards him and he's crushing his mouth to hers.

And she kisses him back.

Which is odd.

But even has she has the thought, she comes to a realisation.

All the taunts and the smirks and the fights and the insults and the tension and the staring on both ends…

This was just the release.

The release of all that sexual tension.

Huh…

Stiles honestly never expected it, but in hindsight, she really should've.

Their kiss isn't tender; a realisation of hidden love.

It's  _them_.

It's quick and brutal and violent and a clash of strong personalities.

It's a kiss that leaves them both groaning and sends tingles through both their bodies.

There's nothing gentle about it.

Jackson walks them back and when Stiles' back hits the desk, she jumps up onto it and pulls Jackson to rest between her open legs.

Her hands are running through his hair, pulling and tugging and scratching at his neck and scalp in ways that make him moan.

Jackson has a hand tangled in the back of her hair, tugging at it, and his other hand resting on the back of her thigh, running from the back her knee where it's hooked over his hip, to her bottom where it sits on the desk.

There's nothing else really to say about it.

They fuck on a desk in an empty classroom.

And it is  _incredible_.

They straighten their clothing (no time to remove it earlier before they got down to business) and they run out of the school, not giving a shit as to who may see them or what their teachers would say.

It's a Friday anyway.

They get into Jackson's pretentious Porsche and it's a statement to who they are that Stiles manages to insult his car despite what just happened between them.

Jackson punishes her by pushing her down onto the bonnet and kissing her until she can't breathe.

They quickly get in after that.

They make a short delay on the way to Jackson's mansion as he really can't focus all too well on the road and not crashing when Stiles' clever fingers are shoved down his jeans.

They stop there for round two.

And when they get to his house, they enter and they don't leave for the next two days.

Their weekend is a marathon of sex (everywhere), snacks (everywhere), competitions (surprisingly sexy) and showers (not at all cleansing).

The amount of condoms they go through, Stiles doesn't even know.

All she knows is that eventually they ran out.

But between the sex - of which there is a lot - there is a surprising amount of cuddling and talking and stupid Mario Kart competitions which have them shouting at each other and trying to tickle the other into distraction.

Underneath the asshole exterior, Jackson is a somewhat semi-decent person and it's an eye-opening experience for the both of them.

Stiles sneaks out on Monday morning and just manages to shower the smell of sex off herself and get dressed before she goes to school in her normal clothes.

Jackson shoves past her when he sees her.

She blows him a kiss.

And the next week when Lydia comes up to her crying that Jackson left to go to England, Stiles pretends to act shocked.

She was the first person Jackson told.

(He organises to visit Beacon Hills (her) every once in a while)

(She doesn't complain)

* * *

Golden-curled Isaac is number four.

Shit went downhill in the lead up to this in a bad way.

A  _very_  bad way.

She'd sacrificed herself to save her father, opened herself up to the darkness and been possessed by a thousands-year-old ancient Japanese trickster fox spirit with a love of riddles.

They eventually get it out of her but the cost is high.

Innocents died.

Lots of them.

And Allison.

She pretends she's fine and she tells everyone that she can't actually remember what happened when she was possessed, only flashes.

She's lying.

She doesn't eat. She doesn't sleep.

She feels like scratching her wrists and pulling at her hair.

Because she remembers it all.

In perfect clarity.

She remembers what  _she_  did and who  _she_ killed and she remembers the joy she got from watching the light leave people's (Allison's) eyes and she remembers the spine-tingling  _rush_ she got when all that  _chaospainstrife_  filled her being.

And she remembers flashes of blood and laughter and pain as the Nogitusne tore up her mind and her body and she remembers killing sweet Allison and all those people and stabbing her Scotty and the never ending riddles and being trapped and just please make it stop let me go make it stop make it stop it hurts it hurts it hurts please stop it hurts it hurts someone help me please help me it hurts it won't stop help me help me stop please will someone help me WILL SOMEONE JUST KILL ME WILL SOMEONE JUST LET ME DIE!

Stiles wakes up screaming.

And she won't stop.

So no… she isn't coping at all.

And  _no one notices._

Scott is mourning, so are Lydia and Chris. Peter's a dick as always, though he does look at her in sympathy like he can see what's wrong but can't help her.

Derek doesn't care. Jackson's in London and her Dad is at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, sleeping at his office.

No one saves her.

And Stiles just accepts that she doesn't deserve saving and that it's never going to happen.

Which is why she's so surprised when it does.

She wakes up screaming for the tenth time in three hours and all of a sudden instead of crushing loneliness, there's a hand on her face and on her head and her body is just _warm_.

She's surrounded by it and it fills her up and all of a sudden the darkness is just chased away.

She sleeps for the first time in two months.

God knows she's needed it.

When she wakes, it's with a gasp and the dreaded knowledge that the warmth and content she must feel is just another game of torture and enjoyment for the Nogitsune.

She shakes her head at the person - the boy - before her and it can't be real. It isn't real it's not real just let me go you had your fun you made me hurt just let me go just let me sleep not him not him leave him out of it not him just let me go make it stop just let me die.

And there's a sob from the person in front of her and they drop to her knees before her where she lays curled up in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth.

"Count with me," the voice commands and Stiles shakes her head because it is't real why are you doing this don't do this to him not him just let me sleep.

And the figure sobs again and its voice is hard as he orders her, "Count them Stiles!"

And so she does.

She counts each finger held up before her on each hand and she does it again and again and again and she cries and cries and after twenty recounts she breaks down because its real. This isn't a trick and it's real and he's actually here and it isn't the fox and someone came for her someone actually came for her thank you thank you you came for me you're here to save me I knew it would be you don't save me help me  _Isaac what took you so long_ …

"Sorry," he sobs into her shoulder as she launches herself at him, grasping at him and probably hurting him but she doesn't care because he's real and he's solid and warm and there and he's the first person she's seen in a whole month.

"I got held up," he chuckles sadly and Stiles can't help it.

She breaks down into a gross mix of sobbing and laughing.

Isaac joins her.

He spends the day helping her clean herself up as she trembles on weak legs.

Holds her in the shower as they sit on the tiles and she scratches at her hands because there is blood all over them and she needs to get it off clean them get it off Isaac help.

And he does, rubbing his hands over hers and holding her tight as he tells her that there is no blood on her hands and there never was.

He makes her say it with him. A sentence she knows well and at first had tried to use, but always got wrong.

You didn't kill those people. It was  _it,_  not you.

It's the first time she ever gets it right.

That night, Stiles begs Isaac to let her feel something real and the rational part of her (microscopic at the moment it may be) knows it's a bad idea but she needs to feel something real and feel warm and she knows that this will help and she'll be able to sleep and it will mean she's worth something and please she needs this she just does and Isaac please just let me die I'm not worth it please let me  _feel_ something Isaac please.

And Isaac says no words.

He just takes her face in his hands and strokes her cheeks with his thumbs and she can feel the warmth spreading and when he kisses her (gentle and soft and full of feeling and warmth and  _love_ ) she comes alive and for the first time in three months, Stiles' heart beats life into her and she gasps as her mind at once becomes - suddenly - blissfully clear.

"Isaac," she whispers in awe and when he looks in her eyes, he must see something because his sad face grows into the biggest smile and he laughs and she joins him and oh my god she's actually  _happy_  and she kisses him again, still soft and gentle.

It's full of feeling and they're kissing and laying down and Stiles - in her clarity - knows that Isaac has started healing her and that she's going to be ok. And she knows that now it's her turn to start healing him.

So she pulls him to look in to her eyes and holds him still as she frames his handsome face with her small hands.

She tells him he's beautiful and perfect and a gift to the world and wonderful and amazing and a light that should never have been smothered, delicate and fragile and should never have been bruised by the world around him.

She tells him that he is so kind and she's amazed he's survived till now and that he's so strong and that he's  _loved_  and that he  _deserves it_.

They don't have sex.

They make love.

And it's slow and perfect and every movement sends warmth and hope and love and healing shooting through the both of them and it's perfect and when they lay curled up in each other's arms, they both sleep perfectly peacefully.

For the first time in years.

For two months, Isaac is by her side and by the end of it she can smile and she can breathe and she is the master of her demons.

And so is he.

Whenever they see each other, they gravitate towards each other, even though their healing is done.

The others are confused as they rest against each other and hold hands.

They don't bother trying to explain it.

* * *

Last but not least is Aiden.

Lucky number five…

She's doing research for Derek on 'Supernatural Evil Villain #23', who requested it from her in his usual way.

Meaning he appeared in her room like a creeper with his Creepy Uncle Peter and one of the Wondertwins and shoved her against the wall and held her by the throat as he told her exactly what he needed from her.

Then he and his uncle skedaddled and they left the twin behind so she would actually get the work done and he could relay information to the two oldest betas.

The twins had actually mellowed out since joining the Beacon Hills pack.

They had their moments of temper, but they accepted Scott as their alpha and obeyed his wishes and were actually kind of semi-decent people.

Especially Ethan.

Who was one of Stiles' best friends and she, Ethan and Danny lived a life of Mean Girls quotes and mall trips and movie nights and texting and general amazingness.

Aiden... she didn't know so well.

She only knew him through the pack and stories from Ethan.

Which was why she was slightly disconcerted as he leant against her bedroom wall, watching her work where she sat in the middle of her bed in a pair of short shorts and a loose singlet which most definitely showed off her bra.

No, she had most definitely _not_ been expecting visitors.

Especially not attractive ones.

"It's hard to work y'know," she told him as he stared and she attempted to type to find more information (she was a genius and already had more than enough but you can never be too careful), "with you staring at me like that. What's got you thinking so hard Wonderboy?"

He smirked and Stiles sighed heavily through her nose as he smirked that cocky smirk. "Just wondering," he baited and Stiles rose to it without fail.

"Just wondering what?" she snapped and his smirk only grew. Asshole…

"Why everyone doesn't just grab you and have you against a wall," he replied in the same easy tone and Stiles' mouth dropped open. "I mean, I've known you not even a year and I can barely restrain the urge."

He stepped away from the wall and closer to as he was silent for a moment after  _that_  particular revelation and Stiles remembers now the conversation she had with the Creeperwolf about special kinds of scents and such after Scott -  _her_  Scotty - got a little frisky on one of the last full moons.

"It must be practise," Aiden decided with that annoyingly attractive smirk on his face as he yet again stepped closer to her and her bed, staring her right in the eye.

Stiles stared back for a second.

Then she launched herself at him.

He caught her easily, swiftly wrapping her legs around his waist and supporting her with his hands as their mouths meet in a furious kiss.

Well… Stiles thought as she was walked back and lowered on to her bed.

That was unexpected…

They didn't make love or fuck.

But they got close enough to it.

Proper, dirty teenage making out is what they did do.

With mouths kissing deeply, roaming from lips to necks.

Hands pulling at hair, squeezing at hips, scratching at backs and dipping under clothes and pants.

Rolling about to win dominance with hips _moving_.

Really… they would be having sex if they weren't still wearing clothes, however pushed out of the way they may be.

They were so distracted that they almost didn't hear anything and Stiles - thinking back to it now - is ever so thankful for the wonders of werewolf super senses.

Because all of a sudden Aiden stiffened and ripped his mouth away from hers where he rested above her and listened.

And then he threw himself into action as he straightened himself and the room.

And a second later when Stiles heard the shrill voice of Lydia Martin calling her name, she did the same.

They cleaned themselves up just in time, straightening shirts and ruffling hair and fixing the bed sheets at a speed Stiles didn't know she was capable of, and when Lydia entered her room with a dramatic hair swish she was met with the scene of Stiles on her bed with her laptop on her knees and Aiden leaning against the wall, staring out of the window with a bored look on his face.

"Hey Lydia," Stiles greeted, praying to every deity she could think of that her voice wasn't shaking as she looked up from her laptop screen.

Lydia didn't seem to notice anything.

"We're going through your wardrobe," Lydia told her, voice leaving no room for argument.

Stiles sighed and behind Lydia's shoulder, she saw Aiden fight down his smile of amusement.

She glared at him.

"Tell Sourwolf that's all I got," she snapped as she threw the USB she'd just filled with her research at his head.

"Thanks Stiles," Aiden said as he caught it effortlessly, his voice filled with mocking and scorn and harshness and general dislike.

And as Lydia entered her wardrobe head first, Aiden headed for the window.

Stiles stood to join Lydia.

Aiden smiled at her as she looked at him.

"Can you just go already?" she told him with a cheeky smile on her face, voice annoyed for Lydia's sake.

He winked at her as he dropped out of her window with something that was a mix between a smirk and a smile on his handsome face.

* * *

"Stiles?!" the sheriff calls from the kitchen, having pulled himself out of whiskey and work stupor, hearing his daughter's groans.

"You alright?" he asks her as he pokes his head around the door to look at his daughter.

Stiles groans again and drops her head to the table before lifting it to look at him with sad eyes.

"I'm a whore Daddy," she whines. "And I didn't even notice!"

The sheriff is silent.

And is still silent.

"...I'm not even gonna ask," he finally decides as he turns away from her and re-enters the kitchen.

He works in silence as his mind tries to process what he was just told, and eventually decides to just let it go and leave it alone.

It was probably something to do with the pack anyway.

And so with his mind forced into clarity, he returns to his cooking undisturbed.

" _What is that?! That better not be bacon! If that's bacon, you will be dying a slow painful death and your deputies will never find your body!_ "

...damn...

**Author's Note:**

> A brain child that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.  
> There are some deleted scenes written for this which can be posted on request if one wishes and also I have no problem writing some up for the world if someone wants one.   
> Always open for that kind of stuff.   
> Food for thought.  
> Hope you enjoyed it.  
> :)


End file.
